Can't help it
by MariaHime
Summary: Prompt from tumblr: Santana walks in on Kurt while he's showering. She gushes over him in a ridiculously aren't-you-supposed-to-be-gay-Santana way while with Rachel, who refuses to believe and checks herself. But when she bursts in, there is also Blaine. Basically a oneshot made for Kurt Hummel appreciation.
1. Chapter 1

I first put this on tumblr, but you can't really get reviews there, so I'm putting it here, too.

Prompt (which was originally given to missbeizy but she didn't want it so I asked to adopt it and then kinda forgot about it...but then I remembered and here it is!): I'd love a fic where Santana walks in on Kurt while he's showering and gushes over him in a ridiculously aren´t-you-supposed-to-be-gay-santana while with Rachel who refuses to believe and checks herself. and this time, when she bursts into the shower, there is also blaine. and an eyeful. she can react however, but I do love me some Kurt Hummel appreciation.

A/N: Okay, I **might** have taken this a bit too far...but it was just so tempting and I love cockslut Blaine and overuse of the word cock and Kurt being ridiculously hot ... I'm really sorry if it's crap.

It has been only a few weeks since Blaine moved in, and the girls are still kind of getting used to a few new things. Rachel is getting used to having not one, but _two_ adorable boys who listen to her ramblings, sometimes cook, give her advice whenever she asks for it, and generally being like perfect boyfriends with the exception that they really don't want to kiss her or have sex with her available.  
Santana is getting used to their almost disgustingly adorable, never-ending we're-back-together-and-so-in-love honeymoon phase, because now that they're back together, they seem to _always_ be _together._ They feed each other _everything, _from strawberries to spaghetti and even freaking potato chips. They cuddle and compliment each other and sing together and generally treat every day like it's the last one they'll ever be allowed to spend together. She still isn't over the fact that Kurt Hummel is getting more than she has been recently.  
Santana and Rachel both are getting used to sleeping with earplugs and really always having them handy when Kurt and Blaine are home at the same time. It's a bit unsettling, how much sex those two have. How often can they come each day? They're a bit worried that they can actually answer the question: Four times, and even up to six, on especially crazy days in which they don't have any duties outside of the apartment. Dealing with that is harder than having to share the bathroom with yet another person, but even _that_ isn't as bad as movie nights in which Kurt sits in Blaine's lap or the other way round so they can make out better before they excuse themselves halfway through the third scene, giggling through their half-assed lie about being tired.  
As if anyone believes them, especially with _those noises_ coming from their room partition. They think they're so quiet, whispering the sweet things they say to each other and muffling their moans and groans against skin.  
The two girls have even found a way to spend the evenings talking and watching a movie together without having to turn the music up really loudly or putting medical earplugs into their ears. Or leaving the apartment. Basically, they use wireless headsets to both watch the same movie on their respective laptops, while having a chat-room open and a bowl of popcorn between them. Voilà, they're watching a movie together and commenting it to each other. It's not perfect, but it's a solution, since neither of them have the heart to tell the boys to stop, knowing how miserable they have been for a whole year, separated by miles and problems and mistakes and even more miles.  
None of those things, however, are on Santana's mind, though, when she enters the bathroom one Saturday morning to what's probably the most shocking as well as _hot_ thing she has ever seen, promptly forgetting about the bracelet she left in here the other day.  
Kurt hasn't noticed her yet, as his eyes are closed. His arms are languidly stretching, raised above his head, which is thrown back to allow hot water to wash his face, streaming down - _are those abs? _And then there are the arms, and the never-ending _legs..._and then there's the cock.

Santana is as gay as they come, but it took her fucking a good part of McKinley's male population to realize and come to terms with that, and she can still appreciate a nice specimen of man.  
And Kurt Hummel is exactly that. His cock isn't even hard, but it's _big _and so … _pretty? _She wants to touch it. His eyes are still tightly closed, and he _hums _in pleasure, an unusually low, guttural sound, as his hands massage whatever ridiculously expensive foam that is into his hair, and the water is still streaming down his wet, _long, _eyelashes and the pink nipples and the abs and the cock and the pale, creamy skin.  
_I have a problem_, she thinks. Then turns around and leaves, seconds before he opens his eyes and would have noticed her - and probably screamed at her to leave, the damn princess that he is.

In the evening, Kurt and Blaine are out seeing some Broadway show that is apparently important enough to actually stop fucking and go out and see it, Rachel is writing a boring essay and Santana, who doesn't feel like braving the icy rain outside, thus spends her time at home with a few glasses of wine and some stupid movie. She's bored to tears, and the gorgeous sight she saw this morning isn't getting out of her head. The wine and boredom have loosened her tongue, and she can't help her question.  
"Rachel, have you ever seen Kurt naked?", she asks, half-hoping for a yes and ready to chew Rachel out for keeping the cock and the abs and the biceps from her, but Rachel rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Of course not.", she says. "When would I have? I've caught an eyeful of chest a few times right after we moved in together and before we worked out the bathroom schedule. But it's not like he'd have sex with either of us, why are you asking?"  
It sounds a bit wistful, like Rachel _has_ noticed Kurt that way. It's also very interesting how Rachel mentioned Kurt together with sex, when Santana hasn't said anything about that.  
Santana smiles. "I walked in on him showering this morning.", she explains, and her roommate chokes on the potato chip she's eating. After she stops coughing, she asks "And he didn't scream? Is there anything you'd like to admit?"  
She snorts. "He had his eyes closed, and I left before he noticed me.", Rachel nods in understanding, glad that there wouldn't be future awkwardness between her two roommates.  
"But Rachel...you have to see him naked. Our little porcelain is actually not little at all.", she says, almost feeling like she should blush for saying it. Rachel certainly does upon hearing her words. "Oh god, you don't mean..."  
Santana nods furiously, finishes her half-full glass of wine in one long drag and sets it down, then leans over to Rachel on the couch, little red patches of light inebriation forming high on her cheeks. "Rachel he is _so hot. _We keep saying he can't keep his hands of sexy dapper Anderson, but it's probably the other way 'round. He's like...arms and _legs _and then abs and _cock. _Rachel, Kurt's cock is huge! And he wasn't even, like, hard!", she half-slurs.  
"Okay okay, STOP! I definitely don't need to hear about my best friend's boy parts! And I thought you were a lesbian, Santana! Also you totally shouldn't have checked him out like that, what's he gonna say if he finds out? And I also think you're exaggerating. He can't be that hot, I'd have noticed. You just haven't seen an actual naked man in too long.", she decides swiftly, blushing because the topic is starting to make her feel horrible for talking about Kurt and imagining him naked the way Santana is describing him.  
Santana's eyes widen in shock. "You don't believe me? What, is it so far-fetched that he could be hot? You're being really insulting to him!"  
"Since when have you cared about insulting someone? And what's actually insulting is you sexually objectifying him like that!"  
"I'm objectifying him because he's a damn hot fucker! You have to see it for yourself. He takes daily showers anyway, and probably will tomorrow morning in order to wash off Blaine's jizz.", she insists, making Rachel's blush deepen.  
"Geez, fine. I'll see if I can sneak a glance, but only so I can prove you wrong. And out of scientific curiosity. Promise me he'll never hear about this discussion. Now pour me some wine, this stupid paper only needs a conclusion anyway.", she commands.

Santana promises and gets up to get another wine-glass.

The next morning, they're sitting in the kitchen partition together, Santana miraculously not hungover - how does she _do _that? - as she nurses a glass of orange juice. They aren't really talking about anything, but then Santana reminds her to wait for the shower to start so she can see "Lady-Hummel's not-so-ladylike attributes".  
Blaine is probably still sleeping off the sexed-out haze Kurt undoubtedly left him in when they hear the shower start, and Rachel was _so close _to backing out, but the sound has made her curiosity peak again, and she gets up. If he notices her, she knows she'll just say "Sorry - I needed my hairbrush!" and pretend like she hasn't really seen anything. Santana winks at her, murmurs "Enjoy the sight." and goes back to searching for food in the fridge.  
It takes her another at least five minutes to get over the fear of getting caught, her thoughts loud and nervous, but then she gets it together and strides in, gravitating towards the shelf where her hairbrush is, in order to make the story more believable.  
Just in case.  
Her being careful turns out to be a complete waste of time, though, because Kurt's eyes are tightly closed. He's also not alone. And Blaine isn't sleeping off a sex-haze, after all. In fact, Blaine is _in _a sex-haze, pressed with his chest to the wall of their tiny shower stall, moaning and groaning and _begging _because Kurt is fucking him, fast and without mercy and _how can he actually move that fast?_  
She releases a shocked, soundless breath, knows she needs to leave, but can't even find the right muscles to move her legs because this is so _hot. _Blaine's arms are twisted, his hands on the back of Kurt's neck, who is nibbling on his boyfriend's neck, whispering dirty things like "That's right baby - oh - take it...you take it so well, open up for me _so well_, god, Blaine. I love you so much, you feel so good around me...", while the only things Blaine seems to be able to respond with are broken sounds and gasps of "Please - so good - right there - I can't - I'm so close-" and Kurt isn't even touching Blaine's cock, and suddenly he's determinedly unwinding Blaine's hands from his neck, pressing the wrists together forcefully with one hand and holding them tight against the wall, and it's so obvious that Blaine can't even move a single inch - even if he wanted to, which he very very obviously _doesn't_.  
He just...surrenders to anything Kurt is doing to him, to everything Kurt gives him, begs for more and moans gibberish, painting the wall with clear precome. She can't even find it in herself to be disgusted.  
Rachel's eyes trail up and down their bodies automatically, she can't do anything to stop it, it's as if Kurt isn't just trapping Blaine against the wall. He's also trapping Rachel right here, staring transfixed and her panties swiftly getting _soaked, _impossibly unable to leave or even close her eyes.  
And then there's the way Blaine's hole is swallowing _every single inch _of cock like a pro, a cock that should be forbidden because it's _so huge, _and it sends her mind into a spinning ramble immediately. How does it even _fit _in there? Blaine is such a tiny guy, and Kurt has always been taller than almost everybody but Finn, but she hadn't realized to what cock-size he would translate, and now her meager experience is proven officially wrong, because body-size hasn't got that much to do with cock-size after all, and Rachel feels stupid along with impossibly turned on.  
All the while Kurt is still furiously pounding into Blaine, who has by now forgotten the few words he seemed to have had left just moments ago, now reduced to "Oh, oh, oh, Kurt - so - big - oh - perfect-" and she still can't look away because it's like watching an accident happen, she is trapped in this, in the sounds and the visual and the knowledge that this happens daily, in this apartment that she lives in, often just a room away, and her knees shake -  
Suddenly she's yanked away forcefully, pulled out of the bathroom and away from the delicious scene and Santana is pulling her to the kitchen and sitting her down and- "Hey! Stop spraying me with cold water!", she sputters indignantly.  
"I didn't know what to do, you were spaced out and freaking drooling over them!", Santana hisses, internally thanking the gods for not having alerted their roommates to their presence. Rachel's cheeks turn bright red. "Oh god, that was so embarrassing. How long were you there?"  
The Latina bites her lip, looking sheepish. "I followed you almost immediately. I wanted to see if Blaine felt like making pancakes for breakfast because I was really craving some, but he wasn't in bed so I realized he's in the bathroom with Kurt. I was going to warn you and pull you back before you saw something you didn't want to, but you were already in. And when I followed, I couldn't help but stare, I mean...wow."  
Rachel lets out a relieved breath. "So we can agree that you were right, and we are living with secret porn stars?"  
"Not so secret anymore, if you ask me", Santana snorts "but that was undoubtedly the hottest thing I have ever not finished watching. I almost feel sad. We should go back in.", she suggests, making Rachel smack her.  
"Santana! That was the worst thing I've ever done, and that includes sending Sunshine Corazón to a crackhouse! What if they find out? I'll never be able to talk to any of them again! I feel so bad, like that was a really private, if admittedly drop dead gorgeous, moment that we intruded on. They're our friends, not some strangers in a porn movie!"  
She hates it, but Santana knows Rachel is right, and she _does _kind of feel bad, but she's also unable to stop replaying the moment in her head like a visual mantra. "I get what you mean. Still. Let's make pancakes, since Blainers obviously won't be able to do it today.", she reluctantly agrees.  
Rachel pouts. "I wanted Blaine's chocolate and strawberry pancake special." Then a thought strikes her, and she can't stop herself from voicing it. "I wonder if he'll even be able to walk after that.", she says, pulling out milk, two eggs and butter from the fridge while Santana gets the other things they need.  
It's about half an hour later, when the boys join them in the kitchen, both in boxers and T-shirts, Blaine's hair wet and starting to curl and Kurt's sticking to his forehead. He's the one carrying Blaine in with Blaine's legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck. Their cheeks are flushed pink, and there is a mischievous glimmer in their eyes. After a relatively short kiss, Kurt sets him down on a chair and cheerily asks if there's anything the girls need help with. Blaine just beams and stares at him like he's the most perfect being on earth or something.

Rachel and Santana exchange a meaningful glance, and it's like they're asking each other 'Dammit, how could they look so freaking _innocent _after that scene in the shower?' with their eyes.  
"No, we're just finishing up. You guys cook almost all the time anyway, we've got this.", Rachel tells him, guilt still eating at her.  
He grins, eyes flashing, and shrugs. "I like cooking, it's no big deal. And you all eat way less than Finn and my dad do, and I was already used to cooking for them."  
"Ugh.", Santana moans, internally thankful for the distraction "I remember how Finn used to eat, it was like watching a half-starved pig. It was one of the worst things I ever had the displeasure to watch."  
Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Is that also how you would describe watching two of your closest friends have sex in the shower?", he inquires, triggering three reactions at once: Rachel gasps, flushes and looks away, Santana sputters, choking on her orange juice and Blaine's mouth hangs open in shock as he looks back and forth between his two friends and his boyfriend.  
"Kurt please tell me that was a very bad joke.", he begs, cheeks turning pink.  
"Unfortunately no, love. I noticed the two of them come in, but I couldn't stop.", he murmurs apologetically, wrapping one of Blaine's locks around his fingers. "I'm really sorry for not telling you right away."  
He just shakes his head. "It's fine. But why would you two do that? It's really rude! Not to mention embarrassing!"  
It's Rachel who speaks up first, voice tentative and still averting her eyes. "We didn't really mean to, it's just...yesterday Santana accidentally came in while you were showering and told me, and I got curious and it really wasn't supposed to be more than a peek! I'm so sorry. I get it if you hate me now."  
"We couldn't hate you.", Blaine says after exchanging a quick glance with Kurt. "But what do you mean, told you?", he turns to Santana "Did you tell her to go in while Kurt was taking a shower?"  
"Umm...basically I said that Kurt's really hot and she didn't believe me and I kind of encouraged her to do it so I would be proved right, but we didn't count on you being there together and we both ended up in there because I realized Blaine wasn't in bed. I was going to stop her from going in but...ended up right beside her? Sorry. Really.", the Latina says, clearly unused to apologizing.  
The boys exchange another infuriating glance, like they're actually having a conversation that Rachel and Santana aren't part of, then Blaine starts to eat his pancakes while Kurt says "Fine. Apologies accepted. While I still can't believe you two would objectify us like that, I don't want there to be awkwardness between any of us. You're forgiven. But don't do it again."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I can ****NOT,**** fathom why I am uploading this, because it literally ****sucks****. I request the patent for the word "Hummeryloperson", though. Also I ****WARN**** you that I have this notion that Kurt likes to make love slowly like the cute romantic that he is, and Blaine mostly just wants to be fucked and owned because he's a cockslut. **

**That is all. Try to enjoy!**

* * *

_A different point of view can make a whole world of a difference_

* * *

There have been many happy and amazing and perfect things in Kurt's life that can be attributed to Blaine Anderson. Having a best friend who understood him in every way, and later a boyfriend for the first time, having someone to kiss. Losing his virginity in the most beautiful way possible with the most beautiful person ever, those kinds of things. He has never been more happy because of Blaine than he is now, though.

That is because Blaine has now moved in with them, Blaine has finally finished high school, they have finally worked out their issues, and now they are _together._ Together in New York_,_ actually living together (well, Rachel and Santana are along, too, but that is only a technicality), attending NYADA together, sleeping in the same bed every night _together_...

Sometimes, when Kurt has a few minutes to himself, just to think, he recalls those things. And he can hardly believe it. He thinks of the boy he was five years ago: in the closet, scared of everything (even his own talent) and, most of all, lonely. Lonely even with his friends, lonely when he sung on stage – always background vocals, because his high voice was too '_unique' _for Lima, Ohio. Lonely even when he had sleepovers with Mercedes and Rachel, lonely when his father got married, lonely when he sung for the cheerios and won a nationals title for a woman who called him _Lady _for a long, long time, but who also managed to make him feel real confidence in himself and in his talent for the first time ever.

And now this is where he is, and he wants to savor every single minute of every single day of it. He does that with every little thing he does. He savors his newly found happiness when he kisses Blaine, when he holds his hand in the corridors of NYADA, when they sing together while making breakfast for the inhabitants of chez Humerryloperson. Basking in glorious happiness is not something he is used to, but he discovers that he is very good at it.

While he is perfectly aware that he and Blaine are really horrible at keeping their private stuff, well, _private_, he can't really help what he does. Especially in those moments when Blaine just looks at him, with that gaze of amazed wonder and love and _adoration_, and Kurt just loses himself in it. Maybe they should tone it down, and maybe the girls are more annoyed by Kurt and Blaine's antics than they let on, and maybe it really is unfair to pretty much flaunt their happiness in front of both of their very single roommates.

But.

But there isn't much he can do about it, and he refuses to make himself unless the girls launch an intervention. Perhaps he is scared to come down from the constant happiness-high he is on, because two weeks before Thanksgiving last year, there was a night that taught him how easily it could all be over. Shattered.

So when Blaine is all settled in, and it seems that Santana and Rachel are getting used to things, and it becomes obvious that Blaine and Kurt can best handle the workload at NYADA together in much the same way they did at Dalton, he decides it is time to cease making love twenty-four-seven and go out for an evening, Kurt and Blaine on their own. _Without_ having to be dragged out of the apartment by friends.

They go to see a musical on Broadway, and the taxi ride is another one of those surreal moments. Kurt just looks out of the window, takes everything in, dopey smile on his face and happy glimmer in his eyes. His hair is done up, the fresh blonde highlights catching attention even in the dimmest light. He is wearing one of his understated-but-hot outfits, and he knows that Blaine is trying hard not to drool over his ass. The two boys have promised each other to get through the whole night without sneaking off for sex or anything related to it, after all.

Mostly, they are only trying to remind themselves that sex isn't why they're together, it's the love they have for each other, and lately, one could almost call them fuck buddies more than soulmates.

The performance is amazing. Both of them have an amazing time, even though the whole thing is rather uneventful, as it all goes off without a hitch. They bask in it, just as they have been basking in everything since the day Blaine's plane landed in JFK airport. Nothing goes wrong, nobody frowns at them as they hold hands or sneak kisses, the actors and actresses on the stage don't faint or mess up their lines, nobody's phone rings during the performance, which is why nobody freaks out and tries to smash an audience member's head in with a stage prop.

Kurt tells Blaine the story of Cassandra July, who did exactly that when an old man's phone rang during one of her very first big Broadway performances. Blaine tries not to laugh about it, then feels a bit sorry for her, and the night is, all in all, a success.

When the show is over, they have a few drinks and opt to walk the remaining few blocks home. Thecool air feels amazing on overheated skin, but Blaine's jacket isn't very warm, and by the time they giggle their way upstairs, he has ice-cold fingers and cheeks and really, really needs Kurt to warm him up.

Rachel and Santana are already asleep when they get home, and Kurt dryly notices the empty bottle of wine on the table.

"Maybe they'll get drunk enough to hook up someday.", Blaine suggests, making Kurt desperately stifle his giggles at the thought.

"That will be the day that Finn decides to eat a vegetarian pizza.", he whispers. He quickly and quietly checks on Rachel, while Blaine does the same for Santana. They've made it a habit to check that the girl's earplugs are in after a few not-so-nice incidents. The precaution proves to be unnecessary, though, as both girls are soundly sleeping, earplugs in place. Santana is even quietly snoring, cheeks flushed from the wine, and if that isn't the cutest Blaine has ever seen her look like, he doesn't know what is.

He now knows that the two ladies could sleep through a world war, at least for the next six hours.

It's more than enough time.

When he finds himself back in Kurt's arms, he barely hears the whispered "Sleeping like a good little Jewish baby" before their lips are pressed together and he's warming his still-cold fingers on Kurt's hot waist. They break apart with a quiet sound, and fingers find buttons and zippers, and soon enough pants and shirts are sliding to the floor.

Blaine's mind is slightly fuzzy, and the high-strung feelings from the perfect evening are making everything feel twice as intense, and he just really, really wants Kurt's cock in his ass, but Kurt is feeling particularly teasing tonight.

He loves it.

Kurt lets all of their clothing fall off the side of the bed carelessly. Then he's kissing Blaine, slow and careful and loving, trailing hot fingers over hotter skin, and Blaine shudders. His cock has been hard for a while, and with the mood Kurt is in, it will be hard for another while, he knows.

When they slide into bed together, he sighs happily and draws Kurt closer, placing butterfly kisses all over his face while Kurt slides his fingers into Blaine's hair in order to free it from its gelled helmet.

When they finally let their bodies join in a haze of wet, sliding lube and hot fingers, Blaine is about ready to burst with the love he has for Kurt. He doesn't hesitate to tell him, too, repeating it over and over again, like a prayer "I love you, love you, love you so, so much..." and when they come, they do so together and ride out their highs before slipping into a deep, exhausted sleep.

The next morning, the sun tickles Kurt awake softly, and he blinks away the sleepiness before looking at the adorable creature wrapped around him. Blaine is awake and staring at him, his hair a mess and dried come on his belly and looking generally adorable and fuckable at the same time.

"Good morning, gorgeous.", he says, smiling, fusing their lips together in a sweet kiss. "Morning baby.", Kurt answers and stretches languidly, letting joints pop before he sits up. He feels slightly dizzy for a few seconds, but it subsides quickly and he looks over at Blaine, who has a very expectant look in his eyes. He grins, remembering.

"I know what you're looking at me like that for. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten my promise.", he says, making Blaine smile back happily. "Awesome. Let's go shower!"

Yesterday, after Kurt took his daily morning shower without waking Kurt, Blaine was very, very disappointed because he had really wanted to join in the fun, and Kurt had subsequently promised to make it up to him – today.

Blaine is out of the bed before Kurt can even laugh about his childish antics, tugging on his arm eagerly, "Come on, before the girls have time to drink their coffee and become lucid enough to realize we're in there together."

They know that they're absolutely failing to stifle their giggles, but the apartment is quiet except for Rachel and Santana's murmurs in the kitchen, and they manage to sneak into the bathroom undetected and turn on the shower. Kurt was already half-hard when he woke up, and seeing that Blaine was already standing at attention makes the rest very easy. After only minutes, he has his boyfriend pressed against the shower wall and was stretching him carefully, being overly gentle because Blaine's ass is still very - well, _open_, and probably a bit sensitive from last night. He can only tease his nipples a little before Blaine starts the inevitable "Come on, we did it your way last night, just _fuck me_", and Kurt is all too happy to comply. After sliding three fingers in one last time to find Blaine wet (of _course _he played with himself while waiting for Kurt to wake up) and ready, he drops the gentle act and, without warning, pushes his cock into the tight heat.

"Like this, baby?", he asks. "Ye-es...mmh", Blaine sighs and a bit awkwardly wraps his hands around Kurt's neck, not caring that his chest is being pushed into the ice-cold tiles because Kurt sets a quick, merciless rhythm immediately, and Blaine lets his brain turn off and just _feels._

His prostate is struck every time, and he manages to say "Let me come from just your cock." when Kurt reaches out to pump him in time with his thrusts. This makes Kurt dig his fingers into Blaine's hips, speeding up a bit. Very soon, his voice is throaty and wretched as he hisses, "That's right baby - oh - take it...you take it so well, open up for me _so well_, god, Blaine. I love you so much, you feel so good around me..."

And Blaine is getting more incoherent with each thrust, barely able to voice his pleasure with, "Please - so good - right there - I can't - I'm so close-", moving with Kurt to make his cock strike his prostate even harder, and when Kurt notices that, he removes Blaine's hands from his neck and pushes them into the wall, not gripping his hips with one hand and his wrists with the other, and then he hears someone – two someones? - come in - or were they already here? - and realizes that they have an audience. He really wants to stop and yell at her or them to leave, but Blaine is a moaning mess, looking absolutely debauched and almost high on pleasure, so he pushes it out of his mind and keeps fucking furiously.

Soon enough, he hears the girls leave and is able to concentrate on the task at hand, and only seconds later both of them are coming, and he fills Blaine up with his come, fucking him through the orgasm and, when he can think clearly again, pulls out and turns him around to wrap his arms around Blaine's shaking body.

"I love you so much.", Blaine says, and fuses their lips together happily. They kiss for a while, and then start to wash each others hair gently and stay in the shower for a while, just making out and enjoying each others touch. Blaine is a little bit shaky on his feet, and so after they dry off and slip on boxers and T-shirts, he hoists Blaine up, letting him wrap his legs around his neck and securing him tightly to make sure he doesn't fall if he loosens his hold.

When they get into the kitchen and he sets his boyfriend down, he can feel the embarrassment and guilt practically seeping from the girls, and he remembers what he heard in the shower.

They're actually voluntarily making breakfast, and that alone confirms what he thought. He is fully prepared to chew them out big time, but again, they surprise him with genuine explanations and apologies. Kurt really knows he shouldn't, but he feels somehow flattered at what Rachel and Santana obviously think about what they saw this morning. Oh well.

He can forgive a one-time incident, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yay! Another sucky part of this story...when the fuck did it even become a story? And damn, I hate ending stuff with people falling asleep T_T**

* * *

It takes Kurt and Blaine a while to get over the fact that their roommates have seen them fuck, and the slight tension is palpable for a few weeks. As time goes on, though, the incident leaves the forefront of their minds, and soon enough, Klaine are back to being loud little fuckers. Literally.

Rachel and Santana try to push it out of their minds. They really do. They leave the apartment more often than not, going out to Callbacks or the movies or whatever when Kurt and Blaine decide not to go out on weekend nights and wearing the earplugs almost religiously to bed.

But then the weather gets colder, and snow falls, and they all really just want to curl up on the couch drinking hot chocolate or wine.

It begins like any normal evening. Kurt is on the couch with Blaine's legs in his lap, softly kissing him every few minutes and eliciting an annoyed groan every time he pulls away, smirking. They're watching Moulin Rouge, and when 'Come what may' starts, the boys sing it to each other quietly, gazing at each other adoringly.

Santana pours herself another glass of wine and swiftly knocks it back. This movie was a _bad _idea.

As soon as the scene is over, Blaine yawns exaggeratedly and Kurt stage-whispers "Aw, are you tired, baby?" and Blaine nods, and they're gone.

Rachel sighs, keeping so quiet that only Santana can hear her. "Here it goes again. This is so frustrating."

"I feel like we need a bigger word because frustrating doesn't cover it anymore.", Santana huffs, putting the earplugs in and handing Rachel hers from the table beside her before grabbing a magazine and flipping it open while Rachel pauses the movie. Maybe they'll finish it later, but she doubts it.

Both girls try to concentrate on their magazines – it isn't like they haven't done this a thousand times before, it isn't uncharted territory for them – but somehow it doesn't work. Knowing exactly what's going on in the other room makes the whole thing so surreal all of a sudden.

And is Kurt fucking Blaine again, or is it the other way 'round? Do they even switch, or does Blaine like to take it up the ass as much as it looked like, that day in the shower? Are they loud and crazed, or quiet and loving?

Rachel and Santana look at each other at the same time, and Santana raises an eyebrow at Rachel's determined expression. Her silent question is answered when Rachel reaches up and swiftly removes her earplugs, making Santana's eyes widen in shock. She wants to ask what the Jewish girl is doing, but Rachel seems gone from the world, her cheeks pink and her eyes full of want at whatever she's hearing.

The Latina sweeps back her hair, takes out the earplugs and hisses "What the hell are you doing?" at Rachel, who barely gets out, "I couldn't help it. Be quiet or put them back in, I don't care!"

Well, Santana is not about to let Rachel listen to this alone, especially not while she's sitting right beside her, so she shuts up and listens.

At first, there are only very quiet, barely noticeable whispers going on, and it seems a lot different from the time they witnessed in the shower. They can make out Kurt's voice, just barely. "...feel sorry for doing this to the girls all the time, even if they do have earplugs and never really complain. It must be annoying. But I just can't – I just need you right now."

"I know what you mean", Blaine's voice is equally soft as he replies. "When I hear that song, all I can think of is how much I love you, and how much I want to marry you someday, and everything just fades away." While he speaks, there's the quiet rustling of clothes being removed, and Kurt sighs. Santana and Rachel barely hear them kiss, and stifled moans follow. It sounds like they're moaning into each others mouths.

By now, Rachel's cheeks are flaming, and she knows she should put the earplugs back in _right about now. _

But Blaine whimpers "Off...want you in me now please." a few minutes later, and she pushes the unpleasantly moral thoughts away. She wants to know what Kurt did to make Blaine say that, what made him whimper like that and ask to be taken again.

Only seconds later, they hear a drawer open while barely-there _thuds_ signal clothes being discarded on the floor. Then a sharp _smack –_ maybe a bottle of lube being opened – and a pleaded "Hurry.", followed by an unusually low chuckle.

"Have some patience, baby. You know it's unpleasant when the lube is all cold – I'm just warming it up for you.", Kurt whispers almost inaudibly. Santana and Rachel listen with bated breaths, and little later are rewarded with a drawn out moan. "Mmmmh...you can s-start with two.", Blaine says.

They can almost see Kurt's smirk now, as he asks "You fingered yourself in the shower, didn't you?" and Blaine makes an affirmative sound - and if that isn't a deliciously hot mental image - then yelps, an adorable, surprised sound at whatever Kurt is doing.

Santana's teeth dig into her lower lip. "Put your foot flat on the bed for me, love.", Kurt commands gently, and she hears Blaine shifting, and a squelch as he obviously squeezes out more lube from the bottle. It's only a moment later, when the eavesdropping girls hear "Oh god, yes! Kurt it's – fine you can – more please!", gasped so wantonly, in a way that makes the little hairs on their arms stand up. Rachel shifts uncomfortably, noticing the wetness in her panties. She can't remember the last time she was this slick so fast.

Kurt sucks in a sharp breath, but says "No. I haven't stretched you enough and I'm not fucking you tonight, you little masochist. I want to make love slowly and carefully and you're going to enjoy it." And Blaine groans. "But I like it when it hurts a bit, you know that. That's why your cock is so perfect for me!", he complains. Rachel and Santana remember the size of Kurt's cock all too well. Kurt's expression must have been something, because Blaine quickly follows with "Not that I don't love slow and careful, I do!" There is no sound for a few seconds.

Then, "Baby? Are you mad?", Blaine sounds like he's about to cry from how turned on he is, and somehow Rachel and Santana know that Kurt's fingers are in his ass, not moving at all and making him go insane.

It stays quiet, and then little whimpers of "Oh yes. Right there – love that - " start, but Blaine seems to not be getting quite what he wants yet. The theory is confirmed when he says "Kurt you can – another now, please."

"No way. You're going to ride my fingers like this for a while", Kurt decides stubbornly, ignoring the tortured moan.

Santana can feel that her lip is about to start bleeding, so she forces her mouth open to tell Rachel "I really, really want to go get my vibrator right now."

"Oh, god. Santana we have to stop.", Rachel answers, simultaneously clamping her thighs together in desperate need of some friction. It doesn't help at all.

"You started it, Berry", she snaps.

"I didn't mean to! It just somehow...happened.", she replies, her eyes tightly closed.

Santana takes a steadying breath. "You're right. We really do need to stop. Together?", she raises her hands that are still holding the earplugs. Rachel nods furiously, just as Blaine screams "Right fucking _there_!", making both girls shudder and flush deep red.

When the earplugs are back in, it's scarily quiet for a second. She hears her heartbeat loudly, and can feel that she's breathing a bit hard and that there is sweat beaded at the back of her neck.

Looking at Santana, she sees the same barely-contained arousal she's feeling reflected right back, then mouths silently 'I am going to go to bed and pretend this never happened', repeating the movements of her lips a few times until Santana gets it, then jumps up, stands there dizzily for a few seconds, and makes her way to her bed on shaking legs.

Santana looks after her for a few seconds, then decides to follow her. It isn't the first time that she considered using her vibrator while listening to them, but could she really look them in the eye if she did that? She doesn't even know if the few sounds she heard today weren't too much, and she doesn't want to find out, so sleep it is.

Meanwhile, in the shared bedroom of one Kurt Hummel and his boyfriend Blaine Anderson, there are no such nervous and uncomfortable thoughts. Blaine is slightly hunched over, riding two of Kurt's fingers as hard as the blue-eyed man lets him – which isn't very hard, unfortunately. There is lube everywhere because Kurt overdid it again, and he feels slippery and wet and turned on to no end, and he really, really wants more of Kurt's fingers to stretch him.  
Whenever he stops moving to beg Kurt for more fingers, Kurt just starts pumping him again, knowing that it _is_ actually enough to bring Blaine off (very, very, very, _agonizingly_ slowly), but not what Blaine _wants_. It has been going on for a while now, and Blaine feels so loose, so open, so full and so empty at the same time. He tries to think, what made Kurt start this torture? He needs to find out, so he can end it.

When he stops moving in another effort to clear his head for a minute, Kurt pumps his fingers faster, making Blaine's hands on his shoulders tighten in pleasure. There was something about … going slow – and making love?

"Kurt.", his voice sounds pathetic, even to himself, but that's okay because Kurt loves it. "Kurt I'm sorry. I didn't mean it – like that. Of course I love m-making love with you, I love every thing we do together, you know that! Oh – please give me your cock, _please_.", he begs when he remembers, blinking away irrational tears and forcing himself to look into Kurt's waiting eyes, even though it makes the torture-pleasure even worse. He's already sweating at the back of his neck, and he knows his curls are free from their gel-prison now, he knows that Kurt loves the sight of him like this, loves him spread out and wanting and whimpering and desperate.

He smiles one dashing smile and kisses Blaine softly. "That's right, baby."

_'YES.' _Blaine thinks for a second as Kurt withdraws his fingers, but when he makes no move to lube up his cock and fuck him, he whimpers again, ass clenching around nothing as Kurt stares at his hole, licking his lips. He feels desperately empty.

Automatically, he reaches down and pushes not two, but three fingers into himself, _let Kurt watch, I am so fucking done with this _and withdraws them and pushes again, and he's being so rough with himself that it actually hurts, but it's so good -

His wrist is encased in a tight grip, and his fingers are pulled out forcefully. "Who said you were allowed to do that?", Kurt hisses, gripping his wrist way-too-tightly.

Blaine doesn't know how it happens, but suddenly he's jerked up and pushed face-down into the mattress, a pillow shoved beneath his hips and then, _finally _Kurt's cock is in him, hard and _dry, _the only lubrication being the leftover lube in his ass, and it hurts so wonderfully that he screams something unintelligible into the mattress.

Kurt hisses at him while he fucks him, emphasizing every few words with a rough thrust, "_That's_ what you wanted, _isn't_ it? I was _going to _make _love_ to you like I want to on our _wedding night_, but that's not _enough_ for you little _cockslut_, is it? You want _this_. You want to be _manhandled _and made to do _whatever _I want. _Right?_"

By now, most of Blaine's coherent thoughts have flown away for a vacation somewhere in Russia, and he seems to only have three words left in his vocabulary, which are "Yes", "Kurt" and "Please", and that's what he gasps as Kurt's cock stretches him mercilessly, fucking him with abandon, carelessly and quickly and roughly, his movements erratic and uneven. It feels so amazing, an he realizes Kurt even forewent the condom and is fucking him _bare, _filling him up with precome and sweat and lube and digging his nails into his hips, leaving ten crescent-shaped marks in Blaine's skin.

Blaine's cock is rubbing against the bedsheets all the time, and he's _so close _to coming, when Kurt does the unthinkable.

He stops.

Actually _stops. _

Blaine is ready to cry.

His hole is horribly empty again except for the dripping wetness of lube and precome, and Kurt hasn't come yet, so what is going on? He feels so hazy and dizzy with lust, his body coiled tightly and his asshole clenching, gaping open, _empty._ Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers Kurt tugging him up on his hands and knees, forcing him to hold himself up like that. Just as he's about to start begging again, Kurt's cock is back in him and the rest of his vocabulary just had a deadly accident and is now gone, leaving him with pathetic little moans and grateful whimpers as he finally gets what he wants, what he _needs_.

Before he knows it, Kurt is exploding in him, filling him up and he can feelthe wetness dripping from his ass and that makes him come with a yelp, streaking the bedsheets with pearly fluid. It seems like he comes for hours, and Kurt keeps fucking him through it, both of them now so sensitive that it's overwhelming.

When he comes back down from his high, Kurt slips out and Blaine holds still, letting him look.

Kurt loves this sight: Blaine fucked raw, asshole gaping and red, come and lube rolling down his thighs and dripping from his asshole. His arms shake. It's not much, but Kurt notices and interrupts his inspection to help him lie down on his side gently. With a soft kiss on Blaine's neck, he whispers "I love you, baby" and tugs the blanket over them.

"I love you, too.", he replies, swiftly slipping into an exhausted sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Oh, look! MariaHime wrote a thing! An actual thing that puts the word count of this on +10k!**

**Beta'd by my lovely new beta UchidaKarasu**

* * *

Can't help it #4

It's not an unusual Friday night at the New York City apartment of Kurt, Blaine, Rachel and Santana. Kurt isn't home as he's working on the fashion week stuff, because he really wants to get everything done in time so he can have at least this Saturday and Sunday completely off. Isabelle would never make him work Sundays if she could help it, but sometimes – like now – she _couldn't_ help it, and he couldn't just leave her to handle all the stress alone.

The remaining inhabitants of the Humerryloperson household are seated on the couch, watching TV and talking while Blaine tries his best at not sending Kurt silly or cute or sexy text messages – it'll only distract him and, as such, delay his return home. That is the last thing he would want. Santana, too, isn't focussing on watching TV at the moment. In fact, she's trying to find the best way to ask the questions that are at the tip of her tongue without sounding weird and scaring Blaine off. When a commercial begins just as an intense scene starts, she grabs the remote control and turns off the volume. She's fed up with wondering about his and Kurt's sex life, and she is more than ready to demand answers.

"All right, Pretty Pony. There is a conversation the three of us need to have, and you will not be getting out of answering my questions," she decides.

As expected, Blaine is clueless and smiles at her encouragingly. "Sure thing, Santana. You know you can ask me anything, right? What's up?"

Refraining from rolling her eyes is the hardest thing she's ever done in her life. Rachel looks at her warningly and shakes her head furiously, mouthing 'Stop it you can't just ask that!'

But Santana has head enough of wondering, and if he doesn't play along with the twenty questions game she's about to start, she _will _go all Lima Heights Adjacent on his perky little ass.

"Your sex life with Bumblebee, that's what's up. What the hell do you and Kurt _do _all the time?" she demands. Blaine's face goes from relaxed, open and curious to pink-cheeked with embarrassment in about one-point-two seconds. "Okay, that's umm ... not what I was expecting," he stammers.

Before things can get more uncomfortable, Rachel decides to try and step in. "Blaine, you don't need to talk about this. Santana is just rude and too curious for her own good."

Santana snorts, annoyed at the intervention. "Oh, shut it, Yenti. You're as curious as I am; you're just scared to say so. The things we've seen and heard in this apartment are out of this fucking world."

Now Blaine raises his eyebrows at Rachel's blushing. It seems very obvious that Santana is right in the Jewish girl's interest in his sex life. "What are you both so curious about? It's not like we're into crazy SM rites with chains, leather, riding crops and candle wax. Is this because you caught us in the shower?"

This makes Santana grin. "Does this mean you're gonna spill?"

He shrugs. "Better than having you two accidentally-on-purpose watch again, right?" Really, it's no big deal, right? Kurt would _maybe_ mind, but Blaine would explain how this was better in the long run, and Kurt would understand. He can tell they have questions that have been eating them up from almost desperate curiosity.

"Ohmygod, awesome!" Rachel exclaims before she can stop herself, making both of her friends laugh. "I mean, um, cool."

Rather than let Rachel embarrass herself further, Santana takes the lead. "We're curious because you fuck pretty much all the time, not just because of delicious man-porn shower heaven. Neither of you gets bored or tired of it, what the fuck is up with that?"

"Um, wow. That's detailed. Please stop reminding me you saw that."

'_Delicious man-porn shower heaven.', _he muses to himself. _'That sounds like the perfect description, actually.'_ "How much did you see, anyway?" he asks tentatively.

"Not much, I promise," Rachel says at the same time as Santana says, "We unfortunately left before the best part."

"Huh. Okay," he says again. This is surreal. "We don't 'fuck all the time'; we're in love so we make love too," he starts, and Santana snorts in amusement. "Hey, you wanted to know, so shut it," he says defensively. "Anyway. To be honest, I sometimes ask myself how we don't get bored too. I mean, I admit that I do realize how much time we spend having sex—" His cheeks darken again. "—but it just seems so impossible to stop when it's always _so good, _you know?"

By now, Santana and Rachel are listening with rapt attention. Rachel is as red-faced as he is, but she still asks, "Because Kurt's so huge right?"

Blaine looks surprised at the question, and Santana is surprised she managed to actually ask. He nods slowly, "That's part of it, but definitely not all of it. And it really isn't the most _important_ part. What's important is that he knows exactly what I like him to do, and I know what he likes me to do, and also that when we're together, neither of us thinks of himself. We both think about how to make the other feel good, and that makes everything get better exponentially, you know? It's not just about getting off, it's about feeling close, no matter what we do.

"And then," he says, his eyes sparkling as he forgets who he's talking to and that he's supposed to be nervous about this, "I can never _get enough _of Kurt. I know that everyone says that about their boyfriend or girlfriend at some point, but I really _can't_. I never could. Before, when we were only together for a few weeks, we were both only comfortable with kissing. Nothing else. You might already have known that about Kurt, but I wasn't either – I was just better at hiding it. I had no idea what he could do with his lips on my neck or, um, other places, or how his skin would feel on mine, or what kinds of sounds he would make in certain situations. I didn't know – nor was I ready to find out – how sex with him would feel, and I didn't know about what he hid behind those skinny jeans." He sighs happily, all thoughts of keeping sex-life private gone as Rachel and Santana listen to him as if they're imagining every little detail.

"Whatever we did, I never want to stop. After our first kiss, we didn't manage to really talk for at least an hour. I'd only kissed him ten seconds ago, and then the only thing I could come up with to say was that we should practice our song for regionals … and you know what he said? He said, and I quote, _I thought we were. _And I swear, that was the last thing either of us said for at least the next hour," he reminisces.

Rachel smiles widely, looking like the cat who got the cream. "He told me about that. It's such an adorable story!"

"Did he also tell you how Wes – that was the Warbler's leader back then – caught us pretty much eating each other's faces when he wanted to check if we'd managed to agree on a song?" Blaine smiles. Both of the girls laugh.

Santana leans forward eagerly and asks, "What did he say? Please tell me he told you to get a room and you did!"

He shakes his head in amusement, knowing she wants to hear that they'd had wild kinky sex in a dorm room. "No. I have to admit that those things were way, way down the road. After I transferred to McKinley, actually. During West Side Story. But don't interrupt, I'll get to that part."

"Geez. I should have figured the two of you were a bunch of prudes in high school."

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" he asks and Santana grumbles an, "Okay okay, sorry. Go on."

He sighs. Remembering that day has always made his body tingle with happiness. "I don't know how long he was watching before he screamed '_Finally!' _And then he started to thank us and went on and on about how he won the pool and it's thanks to us that he's rich. He pulled his phone out and sent a picture he'd taken of us kissing to the chat group of the Warblers and added the message '_Klaine is fucking ON! Next meeting I'm collecting!_'"

Having anticipated the girl's laughing fit doesn't make it any less funny, and he patiently waits until their laughter quiets down to short giggles.

"Wait a second," the Latina manages. "All the Warblers bet about how long it would take you guys to get together?" Her question made Rachel giggle again. "Why didn't Kurt ever tell me _that_?" she asks.

Blaine snorts. "Because he was furious. And not with the guys for betting. It was the first time I ever heard him say words like that, but he yelled, _'Are you fucking done? In case your stupid oblivious ass hadn't noticed, we were fucking busy!' _And the only thing Wes said was _'I'd say. Well, have fun boys, and thanks again' _before he left. It was adorable."

This brought forth another bout of delighted laughter that he had to wait out. "I can't … believe … he said that!" Rachel marvels.

"I wonder what he'd do if someone actually tried to stop you two from having sex," Santana ponders.

Blaine has an answer to this right away. "EITHER JOIN IN OR GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I HURT YOU!" he bellows in a horrible impression of Kurt's voice, and this time Rachel literally falls off the couch laughing and has to be tugged up again by Santana when she has calmed down enough.

"Oh, Christ. This is insanely funny," Rachel states.

"I'm serious! That's what he'd do. You get it, right? It's not just me who can't get enough of him. It's mutual. And it's been like that ever since day one. The only time I realized that not every relationship is like ours was when I transferred to McKinley and saw the relationships in the New Directions. They weren't _obviously_ different, and neither were they better or worse. They all just seemed, I don't know, _less. _Less urgent, less..." he explains, trailing off at the end, unable to find the right word. "I don't know. Maybe it's because we're both guys? I mean, everyone always says men think about sex too much, so it must be true, right?" he asks them.

"Um, I don't think so," Rachel states. "For one, I can't remember my dads _ever _being like that. And I never believed that anyway. In my opinion, girls want sex just as much as guys do, and we're simply a bit better at controlling the urges."

Santana nods, agreeing. "She's right. I guess it's because you're both ridiculously hot and good in bed."

"Um, thanks I guess?" he giggled. "But you don't know that, you just assume it."

The Latina shakes her head "I'm not gonna start a discussion about that now. Tell us about your first time?" she requests.

"Haven't I said enough? Kurt's gonna be really annoyed already," he says worriedly.

Santana snorts. "You've hardly told us anything. The cute little story of your first kiss is hardly anything he'd make you keep from us, right? Come on, please. You can tell him we tortured it out of you with stories about Finn's dick."

Shuddering, he quickly changes his mind. "Okay, not something I need to hear about. Our first time...was absolutely, insanely, amazingly perfect," he swoons, waiting until Rachel is done crooning "That is _so_ adorable!" before going on.

"It was the first evening of West Side Story. After the whole thing was over, I stayed to go over a move I messed up, and when Kurt was done changing out of his costume he joined me on the stage. We'd had a pretty out of character – for us – disagreement the day before, and we talked a bit and made up, and I asked him if he wanted to go to Artie's party with me. Obviously, he didn't – he wanted to go to mine, and I kind of knew we were ready. Uh, this won't interest you too much, I guess, but the whole night was really, really sweet. I was a bit nervous – okay, a _lot_ nervous – because of Kurt's, um _size_. But he made it perfect. And from then, it kind of progressed. It was like discovering an amazing drug," he reminisces. "One that leaves you a disgusting, tired, happy mess. And a bit sore, especially when I realized I liked it when – oh god!" He shakes his head, knowing he went too far. "Forget that last part. Oh god."

"Ugh, we get it. You like it rough. It's not like we haven't heard _and _seen that," Santana says.

Blaine buries his face in his hands, groaning. "I hate you, Lopez. You guys need to stop. You need a girlfriend, Santana. And Rachel, you need to either try being a lesbian or find a boyfriend. I am so _done_ with this conversation!"


End file.
